


she's come undone

by majesdane



Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-10
Updated: 2007-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/pseuds/majesdane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. With Jeff and John dead, Amanda kidnaps Lynn when she makes her getaway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	she's come undone

 

Amanda glanced sideways at Lynn, who was seated in the passenger seat beside her, bound and gagged and shooting her an icy glare.

"You need to relax, Doctor," Amanda said casually, as she waited for the light to change. "All that stress just can't be good for you."

Lynn said something in response, which sounded very much like a muffled 'fuck you'.

Amanda chuckled and stepped on the gas as the light turned green, the black colored truck lurching forward as she accelerated. Bored, she flipped on the CD player. There was a startling bust of sound as the first song started playing. Lynn jumped, then fell back against the seat, glaring at Amanda, who laughed. She cranked the music higher, much to Lynn's dismay.

She sat stewing in her seat, not sure whether she should hate Amanda for kidnapping her or be thankful that the younger girl had spared her life. When Amanda had come bursting into the room, gun raised, and eyes glistening with hatred, Lynn had thought for sure that she was witnessing the last fleeting moments of her life.

Most of what happened next is a blur to her. She remembers hearing Jeff opening the warehouse door, remembers seeing him just outside of the plastic, fear and anger mixed dangerously in his eyes. And then she recalls hearing the gunshot; that must have been Amanda. But, no, there was more blood than for just one person, someone else must have been shot as well.

John.

Amanda's good at hiding her true feelings. Over the years, she had learned that it's always better to not let people know exactly how you're feeling, that it's better to just hide your pain behind a smile. John had once told her to never look back, for she'd be crushed. She knew what he meant; growing up, crying could mean that she'd get locked under the basement stairs, or getting a blackened eye. Amanda had learned at a very young age that it was always better to act tough, to be unreachable, because then you'd never get hurt.

Oh, John would be proud of her now, wouldn't he? Look at her, on the run with a hostage, and completely falling apart on the inside. Some protégé she was turning out to be. She couldn't even take care of herself, and now she had Lynn to deal with; things were just too complicated. The woman in question squirmed in the seat beside her, and Amanda sighed, letting one arm hang lazily out the car window. She wishes, more than ever, that John hadn't decided to do this final test. She wished he was here now.

It was all too much. Amanda didn't think she could cry even if she tried. There was this huge void in her right now. She felt empty and broken and lost. Some small part of her resisted, refused to believe that John was truly dead. _Dead_ ; the word felt heavy and foreign on her tongue. It seemed odd to her, that one word could represent something so final, so cold.

"I couldn't have left you, you know," Amanda said finally, turning down the music a bit, so that Lynn could hear her properly.

Lynn turned to look at Amanda, staring at her silently, expectantly.

Amanda sighed again, pulling onto the highway. It was late out; there were few other cars on the road.

"You didn't really expect me to just let you walk away, did you?" Amanda asked, though she didn't expect an answer from the gagged older woman. "You knew too much; you knew John's name. You'd have gone straight to the police and they would have tracked me down in a matter of seconds. I couldn't let that happen; John's work is too important."

Lynn remained still and quiet.

A heavy silence fell on them then. Lynn has glad for it; she didn't want to have to listen to her captor. A part of her reluctantly admitted that Amanda _was_ right, but a bigger part of her rebelled against this, insisting that Amanda should have let her go. After all, she had _promised_. Then again, when Amanda had made that promise, the game hadn't even begun, so Lynn wasn't sure if it had applied later on. Still.

Jeff was dead. John was dead. Somehow she was still alive.

She couldn't believe it; it just didn't seem right, like it was twisted around cruelly in some way. If anything, _she_ should be dead, and for that matter, so should Amanda, but here they were, racing down the highway in Amanda's sleek, black Ford Explorer. Lynn believed there was an element to humor in the whole situation, if one took a step back from it all. Her head ached from thinking about it all. she twisted in her seat, moaning softly in pain as the cords cut sharply into her wrists.

Amanda glanced briefly over at her before turning back to the road. Everything was just so fucked up now; she didn't even want to think about it. So she refused to let herself think about it all anymore; she shut down that part of her brain, tuning it off and focusing on driving.

The streets were wet and slick - it must have rained earlier.

After a time, she began to grow tired, the events of last night beginning to take a heavy toll on her. Her whole body felt heavy and worn out. She struggled to keep her eyes open as she pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of the nearest motel.

Lynn was asleep beside her, her head resting against the window. Amanda prodded her gently, as she shut the car off and unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Rise and shine, Doctor," she said, as Lynn groaned sleepily, her eyes fluttering open. "Come on, wake up. I've stopped at a motel. We're going to stay here for the night."

She climbed out of the car and shuffled over to the passenger side door, opening it and tugging Lynn out. She kicked the door shut, as she drew her knife from where it had been tucked in the back of her pants. She turned to Lynn, pulling the gag out of the dark-haired woman's mouth.

"You are going to keep quiet while I book a room, right?" She asked, holding the knife up threateningly, the blade glinting silver in the bright moonlight. "Because I am not in the mood to be fucked with; if you draw attention to yourself, you are going to regret it. Got it?"

Lynn nodded. She was far too exhausted to even think about escaping, and she knew she wouldn't be able to fight back if she needed too. With a heavy sigh, she bowed her head and allowed Amanda to lead her towards the motel office.

She stood outside as Amanda met with the clerk at the desk. The night air was cool; she shivered slightly, leaning back against the damp concrete wall.

A few moments later Amanda was leading her to their room, her worn messenger bag draped precariously over one shoulder.

The room in question was dull in appearance and color. The white walls were faded and worn, while the bed itself was covered by light canary colored comforter, in a pathetic attempt to make the room look cheery. There was a bathroom in one corner, across for which stood an arm chair that had obviously seen better days. Across from the bed, a battered-looking television was perched on a flimsy dresser.

All and all, the room looked like crap.

Still Amanda had seen worse, including the apartment that she'd lived in for a brief period of time after being released from prison. She kicked the door closed behind her and let her bag fall to the floor with a dull thud.

She pointed to the easy chair and prodded Lynn in the back. "You. There."

Lynn scowled. "You mean we're not going to share a bed?" She said, sarcastically. "Pity."

Amanda frowned. "Do you _want_ me gag you again, Doctor? Because I am not in the mood to listen to your bullshit."

The older woman fell silent, as she dutifully shuffled across the room and sat down.

Amanda sighed and walked over to the bathroom, shutting it behind her with a soft click. She looked at herself in the mirror, hair mussed and everywhere, her face dirty and tearstained. Her sleeve was torn and bloody, from when Lynn had cut her arm earlier. Her hand was a mess, caked with dry blood, the result of squeezing a leather cutter. Amanda turned on the hot water and began to clean her wounds, grimacing at the sting. She washed her face last, wiping it dry with a cloth. She let down her hair and ran her fingers briefly through it before putting it up again.

She didn't bother to change. She sat on the bed and unlaced her boots, kicking them aside before collapsing back onto the bed. All the while Lynn watched her, leaning back against the chair, trying to find a comfortable way to sit with her hands tied behind her back. The cords were digging into her wrists something awful, but she knew not to complain. She was quite sure that Amanda could find even more unpleasant ways to tie her up and keep her quiet.

The younger girl appeared to be asleep in a matter of moments. Lynn thought she must be exhausted; she was too. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but her body ached, and she just couldn't stay still long enough.

In the darkness and silence she could hear Amanda's even, shallow breathing.

Moonlight fell lightly between the cracks in the curtains, as Lynn's eyes began to adjust to the darkness of the room. She could just make out the form of her captor, lying curled up on the bed, atop all the covers. In sleep, Lynn was surprised to see how very small and fragile Amanda looked. Her face looked soft and innocent; a dark strand of hair fell across her face, stark in contrast to Amanda's pale skin. Lynn's mind flew back to the events that had occurred in the last few hours, and she just could not understand how a girl like Amanda had become something so cruel, so cold.

And yet, ironically, Lynn was wondering the same thing about herself. Jeff was dead, Corbette was . . . Well, _somewhere_. And yet somehow she still couldn't bring herself to cry. She reasoned that it was because she was in shock. That had to be it. After all, Amanda hadn't cried either, had she? And she had loved John, who was also dead.

Jeff had shot John, and Amanda had shot Jeff.

Were they really both dead? It just seemed so unreal to her. One moment she was at the hospital, about to go back to Chris, and then the next she was standing beside the bed of a dying murderer whose fate, as well as her own, depended on her every action. When Lynn had left Chris' apartment earlier last night, she would have never guessed that she'd end up in a dingy hotel room with a kidnapper and murderer.

Had she been a casual observer in all of this, it might have all seemed quite hilarious. But she wasn't, and it wasn't.

She watched Amanda sleeping in the moonlight and wondered what would happen to her.

At some point during the night, she must have fallen asleep; Lynn awoke to the sound of running water. Shaking her head to try and clear it, she looked to the bathroom door. It was closed; Amanda must have been showering.

Sunlight poured through the curtains (Amanda must have opened them) and Lynn squinted against the light, looking around for a clock. She spotted it on the table beside the television: ten o'clock. God, was it really that late? She wondered how long Amanda had been up.

The water was abruptly turned off, and several minutes later Amanda opened the bathroom door. She was dressed in the clothes she'd been wearing last night, but she looked clean, refreshed. Her damp hair fell across her shoulders, framing her face. Lynn was surprised to find that she thought Amanda looked rather good all cleaned up.

"Morning, Doctor," Amanda said with a nod, when she noticed Lynn was awake.

Lynn said nothing.

Amanda took her knife off of the bed where she'd tossed it earlier and bent down in front of Lynn, who flinched.

"Relax," Amanda told the older woman, reaching behind her and cutting the cords that bound Lynn's hands.

Lynn drew her hands from behind her back and rubbed her wrists, which were sore and bruised. She winced slightly as Amanda grabbed her by the arm, pulling up out of the chair.

"C'mon," she said, tugging her in the direction of the bathroom. Once inside, she turned on the hot water for the shower, then looked at Lynn expectantly. When the older woman remained still, she frowned. "Well, come on then. You have to shower; if you go out looking all dirty, people are going to notice you."

She folded her arms and waited.

"Well, I'm not getting undressed in front of you," Lynn said, finally, her expression hard.

Amanda rolled her eyes, but turned around.

Lynn undressed quickly, slipping out of her dirty clothes. As soon as she'd shed all her layers of clothes, she quickly stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind her, wincing slightly as the hot water splashed against her skin. But a moment later, she relaxed, running her hands through her hair and letting the warmth wash over her.

Amanda leaned against the wall beside the shower, waiting.

"Are you going to stand there and watch me?" Lynn asked, incredulously.

Amanda smirked. "What's the matter Doctor, shy? Don't worry, I won't look." She held a hand over her eyes for a moment, mockingly. Then she frowned and said sharply, "Just hurry the fuck up, all right? I want to get out of here."

Half an hour later they were sitting in Amanda's truck, pulling onto the highway.

"Where are we going?" Lynn asked. Amanda had allowed her to sit without having her hands bound (under the condition that she didn't try anything, of course), and she rested her head against the window.

"Wherever," Amanda replied, after a moment. "Doesn't matter, really."

A heavy silence fell between them; only the hum of the engine as they sped across the roads remained.

"You're not going to let me go, are you?" Lynn asked, finally, breaking the silence.

Amanda didn't answer right away. She kept her eyes trained on the road and her face expressionless. Lynn, thinking she hadn't heard her, was just about to repeat the question, but Amanda finally responded.

"No," she said softly, shaking her head. "No, I'm not."

She turned and saw Lynn's dismayed face and scowled. "Well, it's not like I _want_ to hold you hostage," she said, angrily. "But I _can't_ let you go. You do understand that, right? I let you go, and the fucking cops will get me in no time."

"I won't tell anyone," Lynn said quietly. "I promise not to, if you let me go."

"Right," Amanda scoffed.

Lynn fell silent, sitting back in her seat.

And so it went on like that, for three more days. They would check into a motel, spend the night. They'd leave again midway through the next day and spend the last half of the day driving. Lynn had no idea where they were headed, but she was quite sure that Amanda didn't know either. They were just driving to get away, running away, that was all. They weren't trying to get anywhere but away.

At night Amanda always bound Lynn's hands and made her sleep in a chair, or on the floor, if there wasn't anywhere else. Lynn hardly slept at night, too sore and uncomfortable. Often she would fall asleep in the car, her head resting against the window. Mercifully, Amanda never woke her unless they had to stop. Perhaps she liked the silence; Lynn gathered that Amanda wasn't much of a talker.

Sometimes at night Lynn would cry.

For what felt like the longest time, she couldn't. On the second night, she broke down. In her head, she was replayed everything that had happened on the night Jeff had been shot, on the night Amanda had killed him. In that one moment, everything had been destroyed. Any hope of starting a new, of making up for lost time, had vanished.

And she cried.

She did so softly, tears dripping down her face, biting into her shoulder to muffle her sobs. She didn't want Amanda to hear her. She wasn't ashamed or scared or anything, but there were some things you could only do in private, and grieving was one of them. Since she wasn't afforded this privacy, she did her best to conceal her pain.

On the fifth day, Amanda decided that they needed to get some new clothes. Lynn wanted to ask Amanda why she hadn't just brought along clothes in the first place, but if she had learned anything, it was better just to go along with it and say nothing at all. Amanda was happiest when Lynn just agreed with her and was quiet about it.

They drove to a mall. Lynn found the whole idea somewhat humorous; Amanda was holding her captive, and they were going shopping at a mall.

As they parked, Amanda took out her knife and held it threateningly in front of Lynn "You're going to behave, right?" She asked, raising an eyebrow and cocking her head.

Lynn nodded, and Amanda tucked the knife back into her pants. She turned off the car and hopped out, going around to Lynn's side to where the younger woman was getting out of the car. She narrowed her eyes as they headed towards the store. "I'm serious, Doctor," she said. "Don't even think about trying anything."

"Honestly, Amanda," Lynn finally said, exasperated, "I'm really not going to do anything. I'm too tired to run, too tired to fight back . . . Really, at this point, I'm almost _glad_ I'm with you."

Amanda gave her a funny look. Then she shook her head. "Just act normal," she told Lynn.

"Because you really just blend in with that outfit of yours," Lynn replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Amanda ignored her, marching inside and heading towards one of the department stores. Lynn sighed and followed her, somewhat reluctantly. She wondered just exactly how much money Amanda had on her. They'd spent a fair amount of money on motel rooms, food, and gas; Amanda must be running low on cash. Then again, she could have credit cards, or something like that, that she just hadn't bothered to use yet.

The thought of credit cards made her suddenly remember her own wallet. She searched her pockets, but came up empty. Either she'd lost it along the way or Amanda had taken it. Lynn was willing to bet that it was still in the warehouse they'd left behind days ago, along with her purse and cell phone.

"Well, come on, then," Amanda said, as they sorted through the racks of clothing. "Pick something out."

"What?"

"I don't care what; just get anything. Just hurry the fuck up, for God's sake."

"Well, I can't just pick something out and go with it," Lynn told her, annoyed. "It has to fit, you know."

"So then try it _on_ ," Amanda said, spreading her hands out in front of her. "But do it fast. I don't want to spend the whole fucking day here."

Eventually they managed to find something. Amanda paid in cash, as Lynn leaned against the counter, tying her hair up into a loose bun. Amanda handed Lynn the bag with her clothes once they were out of the store. She lead the way to the public restrooms, where she then instructed Lynn to get changed. Lynn dutifully went to a stall, locking the door behind her with a dull click.

Once changed, she met up again with Amanda. The younger girl was sporting black cargo pants and a plain, light blue t-shirt. She was tugging on a black hoodie as Lynn walked up. Lynn smiled to herself - had Amanda just gone out and bought clothes almost identical to what she'd been wearing earlier. She shook her head; the girl was a mystery.

"You look nice," Amanda said, with a nod of approval.

"Oh, thanks," Lynn said, blushing slightly, surprised by the compliment.

She was wearing a tight-fitting pair of faded jeans, low-cut, and a white shirt with red sleeves. A pattern of red stars was stitched across the front. Her hair was gathered into a loose ponytail; it hung over her left shoulder. Amanda was impressed. She'd always thought Lynn had been good looking, but she looked even better now, clean and pretty. Her dark hair shone under the florescent lights, making it look soft and shiny. Amanda had to resist the urge to run her fingers through it.

They were both silent in the car.

Lynn was tired - exhausted, really - and though she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, sleep was persistent in evading her. So instead, she contented herself with leaning her head against the window; the glass was cool to the touch. It was soothing, in a way. Amanda had the radio on, but the volume was greatly subdued, and neither was really listening to it. The sky outside was cloudy, threatening to rain. Lynn half-hoped that it would.

She looked over at Amanda; the girl was lost in her thoughts, her mind a million miles away. Though she hated to admit it, she almost felt sorry for the younger girl. Obviously, Amanda had had a lot of past issues - that had been made perfectly clear - but also, she'd just lost John, a man who she'd given everything to. Lynn didn't know the true nature of their relationship, but Amanda had obviously cared for him very much. It couldn't be easy to lose someone like that.

A part of her still hated Amanda, hated her for everything that had happened, the kidnapping, the game, Jeff's death. But despite all of this, another part of her couldn't help but be fond of Amanda. The girl was kind to her, for the most part, much kinder than Lynn would have expected. She let Lynn sleep when she was tired, she fed her . . . Well, aside from binding her hands at night, she wasn't unpleasant to Lynn.

She struggled against herself, against how she felt towards Amanda. She wished Amanda would just do something, good or bad, because then at least she'd be able to finally draw a conclusion about her feelings about her captor. That was another thing though; she had begun to no longer think of Amanda as her captor who was holding her prisoner. In fact, she hadn't begun to feel very much threatened by Amanda at all. The fact that she was rather comfortable with her arrangement with Amanda frightened her somewhat. But, the fact of the matter was, living with Amanda was so much more simpler than having to go back and deal with the recent, tragic events.

"You know, despite myself, I'm actually starting to grow fond of you," Amanda said, bluntly, when they were in a motel room later that night.

Lynn looked up. "Oh?" She asked, quietly.

"Mm," Amanda nodded, leaning back on the bed. "I didn't think I would - you're insufferably sarcastic and irritating - but I can't help but feel an odd sort of fondness for you."

Lynn smiled and said nothing, shifting in her seat.

Suddenly Amanda sat up, grabbing her knife from the bedside table. She padded softly over to where Lynn was sitting, bending down in front of her. Lynn stared at her, surprised.

"Well, come on then," Amanda said, impatient. "Move so I can get at your hands."

"Wha - what are you doing?" Lynn asked, confused, as Amanda cut her bonds, freeing her hands.

"What the hell does it look like?" Amanda stepped back, gesturing with her hands for Lynn to stand. "You don't need to sleep in the chair tonight, if you don't want to," she told the older woman, tossing the knife back onto the dresser. "You can share the bed with me."

Lynn hesitated, unsure. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

The younger girl shrugged. "Does it matter? I'm just sick of hearing you toss and turn all night. God, I can't even sleep with all the noise you make."

Lynn sat down on the bed next to her. They sat there, side by side, for a few awkward moments. Then, with a sigh, Amanda stood, stretching. She went over to the door, making sure it was locked. She put her head against the door, eyes closed. It almost looked like she was struggling against herself, Lynn thought. She stayed like that for a minute or so, then sat back down on the edge of the bed, unlacing her boots and kicking them aside.

"Well, goodnight," she said gruffly, turning off the lights and lying down on one half of the bed, not even bothering to lie under the covers. Lynn smirked; Amanda was so near the edge of the bed, she looked like she might fall off any second.

"I don't bite," Lynn said, sliding under the covers.

Amanda shot her a sideways glance over her shoulder, as if skeptical. Lynn bit back a laugh.

She found, though, that even when she was sleeping on a bed inside of curled up on her side, she still couldn't sleep. Amanda's breathing was steady and gentle beside her; moonlight dripped down over them, falling through the curtains. She rolled over, staring the wall. She just felt to restless, so unsettled, and she just couldn't put her finger on why. Perhaps it had to do with the sudden closeness of the younger girl. They weren't even that close, but suddenly the bed seemed very small, and Lynn squirmed uncomfortable.

But she was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of a muffled sob. She started; it was Amanda.

She was crying.

Lynn had never seen Amanda cry before, not really. She'd been desperate and upset the night when John died, but it wasn't _crying_.

It was quiet, muffled; Amanda was obviously trying to hide the fact. But Lynn could still hear her, and a flush an embarrassment spiked through her. It just didn't seem right, like she was intruding on something private, something she shouldn't be allowed to see. She was sure Amanda must have thought she was asleep.

Despite herself, she rolled over.

"Hey, you all right?" She asked, softly, placing a tentative hand gently on Amanda's shoulder.

"I'm fine," Amanda said forcefully, shrugging off her hand. "Leave me alone."

Lynn was silent for a few minutes. Then, "I'm sorry, you know. I know how you feel."

Amanda sniffed and rolled over, glaring angrily at her. "How the fuck could you know?" She demanded, eyes black and piercing. "John wasn't just _anybody_. I gave _everything_ to him. And Jeff took him away from me. You couldn't _possibly_ understand."

And then Lynn suddenly found herself quite angry at the younger girl. "Not understand?" She asked, sitting up, eyes flashing. "Maybe you're forgetting, but I lost my _husband_ less than two weeks ago. You _shot_ him - you, you _murdered_ him. And you're telling me that I couldn't possibly understand."

"Shut the fuck _up_!" Amanda snarled, jumping out of bed, fists clenched. "I did what anyone else would have done. I killed the man who murdered someone I loved! Tell me, Doctor, did _you_ forget _that_?"

"You're in no worse pain than I am," Lynn said, standing as well, pointing her finger accusingly at Amanda. "Don't you even try to paint yourself the martyr, not when you and John were the people who _put_ us in those situations to begin with."

Amanda, who had been circling the bed, came to stand directly in front of Lynn.

She bent her head and said, her voice dangerously low, "Maybe if you hadn't been fucking another guy behind his back, there wouldn't have been a problem in the first place."

Lynn slapped her. The sound was very loud in the sudden silence.

Amanda put her hand to her cheek, grinning dangerously. For a second, Lynn hesitated, unsure of what to do. But, the next second Amanda's fist was hurtling through the air, striking her in the side of the face.

Lynn let out a yelp of pain as they fell together to the floor, punching and kicking. As Amanda fumbled to get in a good shot, Lynn managed to get in a few blows to the younger girl's shins, kicking them hard. Amanda cried out and brought her knee up, hitting Lynn in the stomach and knocking the wind out of her.

The older woman fell to the floor with Amanda on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground.

Amanda was grinning manically, her eyes glinting with hatred and something else. Lynn glared back up at her, both of them still for a second.

And then Lynn was kissing Amanda, hard, as Amanda's nails dug into her forearms painfully.

Amanda kissed her back, full and rough, pressing her weight down against Lynn, who arched up into her. Their tongues met and danced; Amanda tasted like copper, Lynn, like vanilla. They broke apart for only a second, before their mouths met again, each fighting for control.

Their lovemaking was rough and fast and hard. Lynn raked her nails down Amanda's back as the girl's fingers moved against her hot flesh, making her squirm and buck. And then Lynn was dragging her tongue down the slope of Amanda's neck, as her own fingers dipped lower, causing Amanda to groan and press tightly against her.

When at last they were spent, they lay side by side on the ground, panting, their bodies covered in a light sweat. Their clothing was scattered over the floor, tossed hastily aside in their act of passion. Lynn struggled to catch her breath, as her mind raced.

No, no, she did _not_ just have sex with her kidnapper. She did _not_ just have sex with Amanda. The part of her brain that was still functioning screamed that it just wasn't possible. But her body told her otherwise, sweaty and sore and satisfied. Lynn grimaced as she rolled over onto her side to face Amanda, knowing she'd feel like hell come morning.

"What just happened?"

The question hung in the air, neither of them really wanting to answer it.

Then Amanda said, slowly, "It's not . . . It didn't mean anything. It was just a one time thing, that's all."

Lynn closed her eyes and rolled onto her back again. For some reason, she felt the brutal sting of tears in her eyes, and she scrubbed at them furiously. She couldn't even understand why Amanda's words had upset her so - it wasn't as if she had feelings for Amanda. She never had, and she never would. But see, that was a lie right there, and she knew it. She _did_ care for Amanda; she hadn't at first, but she'd begun to, slowly. And she felt awful about it, sick and horrible, because Jeff's body wasn't even _cold_ , damn it, and she was lusting over the very person who had murdered him. It wasn't right - it could _never_ be right. So, she shouldn't be crying because Amanda said it meant nothing to her. It shouldn't hurt like this.

"Whatever," Lynn said finally, sitting up and crawling into bed.

She didn't mean to fall asleep so quickly, but she was absolutely worn out and exhausted, and she just couldn't stay awake. At some point during the night, Amanda must have climbed back into bed with her, because she awoke early in the morning to find the girl curled up against her, dark hair splayed out on the pillow. Lynn smiled, still half asleep, and pulled the girl in closer, wrapping her arms around Amanda protectively.

When morning finally did come, however, Lynn awoke to find the other side of the bed empty. Startled, she sat up, the effects of sleep quickly leaving her. She saw through the curtains that Amanda's truck was still parked outside, and she relaxed a bit, but she was still curious as to where the other girl had gone. She dressed rapidly, pulling on her jeans and tugging on her jacket as she poked her head out of motel room door.

Amanda was sitting beside the door, looking forlorn. Lynn smiled, and stepped out into the sunlight.

"How long have you been out here?" She asked, pulling the door shut behind her and sliding down next to the younger girl.

Amanda shrugged. "A few hours, maybe. Doesn't matter. I couldn't sleep anyway."

They lapsed into silence. Lynn wanted to lean her head on Amanda's shoulder, wanted to take Amanda's hand in her own, but somehow, it seemed awkward, confrontational. So instead, they simply sat there, side by side, staring out at the highway, the warmth of the morning summer sun washing down on them.

"So, what happens next?" Lynn asked, finally, breaking the silence.

Amanda looked away. "I don't know."

Lynn said, "Neither do I."

Then Amanda stood, brushing herself off. She offered her hand to Lynn who took it, and she pulled the older woman to her feet.

"Well, Doctor," Amanda said, voice hitching. "I guess you'd better go."

"What?" Lynn was confused. "What are you talking about."

Amanda walked over to her truck, running her fingers along the edge of the window. "I mean, I'm letting you go," she said softly, almost in a whisper. "You're free to go."

Lynn was shocked. Amanda was letting her go? Amanda was just going to let her walk away from all of this, from everything that happened? No, that couldn't be right. She must be dreaming - and if she was, it was a nightmare, because this _wasn't_ what she wanted. She _wanted_ to be with Amanda, wanted to stay with her forever. She'd started off hating the girl, and ended up falling for her. And besides, she'd gotten too used to this life to go back to how things were. It had been a little under two weeks, but already she had begun to lose her old life. This life was so much easier; it gave her a sense of freedom that she'd never felt before. She couldn't let something like this go.

"I'm not leaving," she told Amanda, forcefully.

"Yes, you are," Amanda told her, stepping forward and grabbing her by the arm. She shoved her up against the motel wall. "You are going to get the fuck inside, get your things together, and _leave_."

"No."

Amanda drew her knife and pressed it against Lynn's throat. Lynn felt the cool steel cut sharply into her skin, but she refused to yield.

"I'm not leaving," she told Amanda, staring into Amanda's dark, dark eyes. "And I don't care if you kill me or hurt me or whatever, because nothing you can do or say is going to change my mind."

" _Why_?" Amanda cried, pulling away, releasing her grip on Lynn. "Why won't you just leave me alone? I can't bear it, can't you see?" She kicked at one of the truck's tires, angry and sad and desperate. "It's just . . . Not right . . . I can't."

Lynn walked over towards Amanda, slowly, cautiously. "Amanda," she murmured.

"Just, leave me the fuck alone," Amanda said, eyes shining with tears. "I just want to be alone."

Lynn stood there, feeling foolish, as Amanda leaned against the truck, covering her face with her hands. Lynn was so nice; why couldn't she just return the kindness? She'd treated the other woman like crap for the past few weeks, and Lynn had grown to _like_ her, despite it all. And, oh, God, last night had been crazy, awful . . . Yet, there was a nagging part of her that told her that she _liked_ it, that it was exactly what she'd wanted all along. Why did everything have to be so fucked up? Why did John insist on playing one last final game? Why couldn't he just let her carry on as his apprentice? Everything would have been so much fucking easier and clearer than they were now. She wouldn't be so torn.

"Amanda," Lynn said again, gently. "If you really . . . If you really want me to go, I will." She bit her lip and fought back the tears that threatened to fall. "I'll just get my things - "

"No, wait, don't," Amanda said, turning around, catching Lynn by the wrist. "Please don't," she pleaded, looking very much like a lost little girl. "Please Lynn, don't leave me alone."

And then Lynn was leaning in and pressing her lips softly against Amanda's own, catching the younger girl off guard. Amanda recovered a second later though, leaning into the kiss, deepening it. She pulled Lynn to her, feeling the heat of Lynn's body pressed against her. She didn't know exactly what happened next, but the next minute they were back in bed, Lynn atop her, kissing her passionately.

They went slow this time, and it was all kisses and moans and soft touches. Amanda kissed a trail down Lynn's neck, across her stomach, and then even lower. Lynn gasped and tangled her fingers in Amanda's dark brown hair, arching off the bed. And then the older woman's fingers were sliding along the inside of Amanda's thigh, finding their goal and working purposefully. Amanda groaned into the kiss, and Lynn pressed harder, pushed her fingers in deeper. They moved together, twisting beneath the white, cotton sheets.

After they were done, Lynn smiled and curled up against Amanda, kissing her lightly before resting her head on the smaller woman's shoulder.

"This is nice," she murmured, as they both drifted off to sleep.

Later that day, as they lay in bed together, Amanda said, "You know, we can't ever go back."

"I know," Lynn said, softly, running her fingers through Amanda's thick brown hair. "I didn't expect to."

"Well, there's still one last thing to do," Amanda told her. "You have to make a choice, you have to decide what happens next. It could affect our entire future."

Lynn frowned, worried. "What do I have to do?"

Amanda chuckled, seeing Lynn's worried face. She nuzzled Lynn's neck gently. "Oh, don't worry your pretty little head, Doctor. It's nothing bad." She grinned, sitting up. "In fact, you might actually like it."

Lynn sat up as well, modestly drawing the sheets up around her to cover herself. "All right, now I'm curious. What is it?"

"Do you want it to be just us?" Amanda asked, grinning. "Or would you like to bring someone else along with us?"

The older woman hesitated for a moment. "I don't think I understand - who else would be coming with us?"

"Someone very important," Amanda told her, eagerly. "Your daughter."

"Corbette?" Lynn asked, in disbelief. "But, I thought . . . Where is she?"

"She's safe," Amanda said, as she climbed out of bed and began to dress. "Do you remember that first morning, when you woke up late?" Lynn nodded. "Well, while you were sleeping, I called the police department from a payphone. I told them that I knew where one of Jigsaw's victims was, and that they had to hurry up, because she was running out of air. She's all right, of course. If I'd waited even a day longer, she would have died. But she didn't; she's alive."

She took a breath, then continued, as Lynn stared at her, shocked. "Of course, I couldn't go get her when we first left. You alone were a big enough problem to deal with. I figured it'd just be easy for her to be rescued by the police. I knew she'd be taken care of."

"So, what are you suggesting?" Lynn asked, still trying to process everything Amanda had just told her.

"That we go get her," Amanda said. "That we take her with us, wherever we go."

Lynn considered the idea for a moment. Would Amanda really be willing to risk the chance of getting caught by going back and getting her daughter? The simple fact that Amanda had spared Corbette's life was telling enough; yes, she was. And so she nodded.

"Yes," she said, firmly. "Let's go get her."

Amanda broke out into a smile, the first real smile Lynn had ever seen Amanda give her. And for the second time that day, Amanda reached out her hand, and Lynn took it, stepping lightly out of bed. She dressed quickly, packing her things away in a paper bag, while Amanda stuffed her clothes into her messenger bag, slinging it casually over her shoulder.

"Ready?" Amanda asked, as she stood by the door, waiting for her lover.

"Always," Lynn told her, slipping her hand in Amanda's, entwining their fingers together.

And as they stepped out into the light, for the first time in a long time, Lynn felt happy.


End file.
